


Silver

by conceptofzero



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't news that Snowman's a crazy bitch. Slick already knows this. He's known it for years. And it's always the same old shit too. Anytime something goes wrong for her, she shows up and takes it out on him. Sometimes he can see her coming, but on nights like tonight, he's got no clue what's set her off and made her so hell-bent on giving him a beating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver

It isn't news that Snowman's a crazy bitch. Slick already knows this. He's known it for years. And it's always the same old shit too. Anytime something goes wrong for her, she shows up and takes it out on him. Sometimes he can see her coming, but on nights like tonight, he's got no clue what's set her off and made her so hell-bent on giving him a beating.

His Crew probably hasn't even noticed he's gone. She slipped in behind him while he was headed out of the can and used those fucking powers to yank him out of the bar and into an empty factory. He's not even sure where it is. Maybe somewhere across town. There's nobody here. The assembly line is silent, and she's got him pinned in a corner, the cold corrugated steel digging into his back. His hands are tied with rope, and his deck of cards is halfway across the room, completely out of reach.

Slick's got himself prepared for whatever she's planning on throwing at him, or so he thinks, right up until the moment she leans in and kisses him. Her lipstick tastes waxy and bitter, and it throws him for a loop. This isn't what happens. What happens is that she uses her lance and whip on him, threatens to shoot him, and then leaves Slick to lick his wounds. She doesn't kiss him on the mouth.

Snowman draws back, and for a moment, he wonders if maybe he's gone crazy. Maybe somebody put something in his last drink and he's hallucinating all of this. Except he can still taste her lipstick in his mouth, and the ropes on his wrists are real. "What the fuck?"

She's quiet. It's not a good quiet. It hangs in the air between them, bloated and unbearable. She finally breaks it, and her voice is like a bucket of ice water, "I think tonight's the night I really kill you."

Her threats are usually empty. She gets a kick out of seeing him squirm. If he's dead, no more squirming. Except she's never kissed him before. For the first time in a very long time, he actually wonders if she's not just fucking with him.

"You don't have the fucking balls," He snarls. Maybe it's a stupid move, but as weird as this is, he's mostly sure this is just another mind game. All she's done is add even more bullshit to her torture routine.

She slaps him, hard. His hand jolts to the side, and before he has a time to adjust, she hits him again, coming from the other side this time. Slick curses, both sides of his face stinging. He looks up at her, just in time to see her take a step back and reach for the whip hanging off of the belt on her waist. He's felt her black inches before, and he knows they sting like a motherfucker. He's got time to turn his face to the wall before the whip hits him, and he screams out 'fuck' because there's nothing else he can do.

It hurts, just like he knew it would. No amount of tensing up can stop how much her whip hurts. Snowman takes another shot at him, and this time he hears the sound of his jacket ripping and feels the sting running all the way up his back. But there's nothing he can do about it, besides curse and struggle. The bitch has him boxed in, and there's no way out. The next whip-crack hits him right in the back of the knee and his leg just gives, sending Slick to the floor in an awkward crumpling pile. His hat tumbles off his head, landing upside down a few feet away.

Slick gets his good knee under him and starts to get up, only to find Snowman back in his face again. Or rather, her gun in his face. She cocks the hammer back and taps it on the side of his mouth. "Open up."

"Cram it in-" He starts to say, but she just slips the barrel into his mouth. The taste of steel and gunpowder floods his mouth and as he looks up at her, he feels afraid. Maybe afraid for the first time in years. She's really lost it. This isn't a joke. Her gun is in his mouth, and he's drooling on it, and in another few minutes, the huge bitch is going to pull the trigger and blow his head all over this shitty factory wall. They'll be scraping his brains off of the steel for weeks.

Snowman stares down at him and when she speaks, her voice is as cold as the barrel in his mouth, "Do you know what today is? It's our anniversary Slick. Twenty five years since you had me exiled. I hear the traditional gift is silver, but all I have to give you is lead."

Shit. No wonder she's pissed. Twenty-five fucking years. Some days he almost forgets what Derse looked like. Maybe she's pissed, but he's not. He's glad he's here, in the city he built, instead of still serving under the royal pain-in-the-ass. Slick just glares up at her and just waits for Snowman to pull the trigger. He won't apologize. He's not sorry he had her exiled. He's just sorry he didn't have her killed first.

He waits, and waits, but it never comes. She just pulls the gun out, barrel wet and glistening, and tucks it back into the holster beneath her coat. Slick spits on the ground, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. She grabs onto his jacket lapels and hauls him onto his feet, slamming him into the corner once more. She kisses him again, and there's nothing that could ever prepare him for this. The bitch has officially lost it. Slick struggles, trying to get out of her grasp, but there's nowhere to go, and she's not letting go.

She pulls back, and rips his jacket open. His shirt follows, and the buttons clatter on the floor. "No-" He says, even as she digs her fingers into his sides, hard enough to bruise. "Fuck no!"

Snowman sheds her coat, letting it drop to the ground. She's got nothing on underneath, nothing but that fucking holster around her waist, and as much as he'd like to look away, he can't. He's never seen her naked, but he's thought about it plenty of times. It's everything he imagined, except he never imagined he'd be tied up. Or that she would still be wearing her gun. Or that he would be so turned on by it.

His mouth is dry. Slick barely remembers to struggle when she presses herself against him. It only makes things worse once she gets a thigh between his legs and suddenly there's all sorts of friction going on every time he tries to shove her away. Her breasts are right there in front of him and Slick can smell her perfume, a heavy honey scent that turns his stomach. Her head dips down, and she bites him on the neck. "Aaah fuck!" He says, because that's all he can manage, trying to jerk his head away.

She shoves him, and he slams his head into the steel. His legs buckle, the one still hurting from the whip, and he slides down to the floor. Of course, Snowman follows. She gets her hands on his pants and pulls them down. The cement underneath him is freezing cold, and his trouser tangle up around his legs. There's no hiding his erection, but she doesn't seem even slightly surprised. She just settles herself in his lap, those long legs bending up as they reach the wall.

"You huge bitch," Slick snarls, but it's all bluster and they both know it. The proof is pressed up against the flat of her stomach, leaking precum.

"Shhh," She says, and lifts herself up, guiding his cock inside of her. She's hot and wet, better than anything he's had in years. His back is pressed against the wall and her legs pressed against his sides, and all he can feel anymore is her. She starts to move, rocking back and forth and back and forth. Snowman brings a hand up to cup one breast, rolling a nipple between her dark fingers. The other presses against the wall beside Slick's head, holding herself steady as she slowly fucks Slick.

It would be easier if this didn't feel so good, but it does. He's in deep, and it's been so long, too fucking long. Her free breast sways with the motion of her body, drawing his eye. All he has to do is lean forward. The temptation is too much, even for him. So when she rocks herself forward, so does he, seizing her free nipple in his mouth. He bites just enough to make her gasp, but not enough to make her go for her gun. She looks at him with an expression that is carefully blank. Slick holds on as long as he can, but she rocks back, and he has to let go or risk taking this too far.

She takes her hand off the wall, and slips it behind Slick's head, pressing his face forward. He nestled it between her breasts. Her perfume is heavy here, and he turns his head to the side, tasting sweat and something bitter when he runs his tongue along the side of her right breast, between her fingers. She shudders under his touch and her hips quicken. He would like to have his hands free, but he's got a feeling that if they were free, they wouldn't be fucking.

Slick tries to thrust up into her, but she's too heavy and he's got no traction. It's all up to her, and she's already decided on something slow. So instead, he finds other ways to encourage her to make it faster. He licks and bites at her breasts, devouring every shiver and every hitch in her breathing. And she fucks him a little faster, and a little faster, until she's undulating against him, breasts heaving around him.

Snowman slips a hand between their bodies, and he feels her knuckles brush up against his cock. He glances down, and watches her slip her fingers just inside her cunt. Slick can almost feel them working at her clit, the edges of her fingers rubbing against his shaft. She lets go of his head and braces herself against the wall, grinding against Slick and against her hand. Her breasts are wet, sweat and saliva making them glisten, and even Slick's sweating a little. He wants to fuck her so badly, but all he can do it sit back while she decides the rest.

She comes, and he knows because he can feel her body spasm around him. He groans with frustration, bucking up against her. Slick wants more friction, he wants to shove her onto her back and thrust into her until he can't think anymore. But even punchdrunk off of an orgasm, she keeps him trapped between the floor and her thighs.

Snowman brings her fingers up, and slips them into his mouth. His head jerks back, but not fast enough to keep from tasting her. Slick snarls, and she wraps a hand around his neck, pressing him back into the wall. Snowman's other hand goes for the holster, drawing her gun and pressing it up against his mouth. He refuses to open up this time, so she just squeezes and suddenly he can't breathe anymore. Even as Slick tries to keep from gasping and gagging, she starts to rock her hips again, and he can't stop his mouth from falling open. Snowman slips the pistol inside, and eases up the hand on his throat, but she doesn't stop fucking him.

The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach comes back with a vengeance. He let himself think with his dick for a moment, just long enough to forget how very fucking crazy she was. There's no way to forget with a gun in his mouth. Her eyes are flat and cold, and only her flushed cheeks prove that she's not so detached. The hand doesn't let go of his neck, using it to support her as she ruts against Slick. He's cold and he's half a second away from death, but he's still hard enough to break bricks and he can feel the pressure building with every thrust.

He tries not to react. He tries to think of anything to take his mind off of how fucking hot she is, and how close he is, and how much he needs this. Slick thinks about the gun pressing against the top of his mouth. He thinks about his own death. He thinks about the uniforms she used to make him wear. Snowman tightens her legs around him, and slides him in deeper than he thought possible. His eyes bug out, and suddenly all he can think about are her breasts, and her cunt, and fluffy terriers.

"Bye bye Slick," She says, and pulls the trigger. The hammer snaps, and he comes, hips jerking helplessly into her. He sags against the wall, spent and so fucking confused. It only makes sense when she pulls her revolver out and snaps the barrel open. He looks down six empty chambers.

"You," He says, and can't finish it. His brain is too fucking scrambled and he doesn't even know how to process what's happened to him.

Snowman sticks her gun back into it's holster and stands up, grabbing her coat off the floor. She slides the trench on and does her buttons up one at a time, and all he can do is watch her from the floor, pants still around his ankles and arms firmly tied behind his back. Snowman wraps her whip around her arm and looks down at him, smiling like she's finally reached the punchline. "Happy anniversary Slick."

And like that, she disappears. He stays on the floor until his confusion and fear finally fades enough to let the mindless rage take over again. "FUCKING BITCH!" He screams to the empty factory floor, and hears only the echo of his own voice. Slick puts his back to the wall, and slowly gets up, thinking of all the ways he's going to kill her and her stupid fucking friends.


End file.
